The Will of the Wolf
by TheSharinganMan
Summary: Jon gets sent to the Free Cities in 294 AC on the orders of Lord Stark and carries with him his greatest secret, his magic, How does this change the Game of Thrones?
1. Chapter 1: Jon and the Raven

**294 AC**

Jon Snow was very confused. Incredibly confused.

Had he heard his father and Lord correctly?

He was to set sail for the Free Cities in a week's time, specifically finding his way to Braavos

It made no sense to him really, he was 13, barely a man, what's he going to do in the Free Cities?

But his Lord allowed no argument, Jon figured it must be Lady Stark's doing, Lady Stark and Sansa always seemed to treat him with indifference and he knew why, after all, he was the living embodiment of Lord Eddard Stark's unfaithfulness, to Lady Stark, he must've been a sight for sore eyes and while he hungered for the comfort of Catelyn's maternal love, he knew from the age of six, he would never be allowed to partake in that particular luxury.

He always had joked to himself as he never knew a mother's love, he truly knew nothing

And so he had immersed himself in his studies and sword fighting since he was old enough to understand what the word "bastard" meant

He had by this point, a good enough understanding of the Old Tongue and High Valyrian thanks to tuition from Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik Cassel had turned him into a singularly ferocious fighter adept with two swords which he preferred over the more classical single sword styles practiced by swordsmen like Ser Rodrik

But that was not his greatest asset, that would be magic

Magic was most certainly dead according to most people, the ancient sorcerers of the Valyrian Freehold were simply dust and bone now and the greenseers of the forest were near extinct

Near being the keyword

Jon vividly remembered his first exposure to magic, it was his sixth nameday and he had gone to the godswood to pray for a long life, in hindsight, such as an action seemed pointless, after all, who was he to proposition the Gods?

They carved the dice and threw it

Jon was drawn to a certain tree in the centre of the godswood with a face carved in that seemed to crying tears of blood (This was a heart tree as Jon later discovered, a sort of shrine to the Old Gods) but the peculiar tree was not what caught his interest, perched on the topmost branch of the tree, there was a raven, its feathers dark and foreboding as night

And it had three eyes

Jon's fingers brushed the bark of the weirwood tree and as he did so, his eyes rolled back into his head

"Well hello young man" was the first words he heard from an albino man with red eyes and red wine stain birthmark on right side of his face, he was thin and gaunt but towered over Jon like a giant, and as Jon looked at him, he saw the spark of cunning that danced free in the man's eye.

Jon did what was most sensible at this point

"Who are you and why do you only have one eye?" asked an irritated Jon, who felt he was very much out of his depth here

"Hahahaha, Not all questions need be answered and as to your second question, I have a thousand eyes and one" said the mysterious man

Jon was not happy, he was stuck here, wherever here was with an enigmatic old man who seemed to communicate solely in riddles

"You may call me The Three-Eyed Raven, young one" answered the Three-Eyed Raven, breaking Jon out of his momentary lapse into silence

"That doesn't answer my question" said Jon

"It _will_ answer your question" replied Raven, as Jon had taken to calling him mentally

"What will?" asked Jon confused

"My previous answer" answered Raven with a laugh

"I am a greenseer" continued Raven, startling Jon, according to Old Nan, greenseers were those who see into the future, present and past

"Am I a greenseer? Is that why you bought me here?" asked Jon, feeling incredibly excited

"No, only the summer wolf and the shaggy dog are greenseers amongst you" said Raven cryptically

Jon felt downbeat after that, it was very anticlimactic

"No, you have the power of will magic, my boy" explained Raven

"Eh?"

"It's where a single person can use their will to overpower others, it makes any man who wields it incredibly powerful"

"Can you teach me?" asked Jon, his little mind mentally salivating at the endless possibilities this ability presented

"Let's begin!"


	2. Chapter 2: In Braavos

And so they began, The Three-Eyed Raven was a hard taskmaster, even more so than Ser Rodrik or Maester Luwin, he taught him to use his will to sharpen his blades, to summon weapons when and where he wished, he enjoyed using this especially since he had now begun incorporating knives into his fighting style and summoning them where and when he wished, just to give himself more of an advantage against any opponent, he also learned the art of dirty tricks from the Raven.

Ned Stark taught Jon that men must be honourable, Jon soon learned from the Raven that the objective of battle was victory and you couldn't have honour if you died or lost

 _Back in the present_

Jon had landed in Braavos by this point and was greeted by Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos and old acquaintance of Lord Stark, famed bravo and water dancer, which was, as Jon had discovered, the preferred method of sword fighting utilised by the Braavosi sword masters

His guide, Syrio had proven to be as flamboyant and confident of his skills as he expected and he, wanting to get a piece of the action himself, decided to challenge Syrio and Syrio gladly accepted, with a mischievous smile bought out his own sword while Jon hefted his two Valyrian swords _Shadow_ and _Lightbringer_ gifted to him by his uncle Benjen a few years prior.

Many had doubted Jon's decision to use two swords and it was met by snorts of derision from the smallfolk back at Winterfell and raised eyebrows from Syrio and many members of the crowd that had gathered around to watch the spectacle.

Syrio made the first move and Jon quickly moved to parry his strike, by the Old Gods, he was as fast and fluid as water and Jon watched him intently now, searching for the break, the chink in his armour

He had found it

He dug one sword into the ground to chuck a bit of dust into Syrio's face, blinding him momentarily, he then threw a knife at Syrio which he blocked with his sword and thus he left his flank open, Jon charged, driving Shadow across the length of Syrio's blade, pushing it aside and thrusting the two swords, one at his neck, one at his heart

Syrio stood wide-eyed and dumbstruck

"Every sellsword worth his salt will want a piece of you now" he whispered to Jon, who had lowered his swords and sheathed and picked up his knife

"I welcome them to try their hand, but be warned, they may lose it" smirked Jon

"You're not Jon anymore, you are Two Knives now and by the way, I was holding back " said Syrio with a laugh and a mock bow

"of course you were" said Jon, his voice dripping with sarcasm

"Two Knives?" asked Jon

" Those two swords would've been death of me if the fight were real" deadpanned Syrio

"Aye" said Jon

 _Two weeks later_

Syrio's warning proved true, most days now, Jon Snow was fighting every half-decent sellsword and bravo in Braavos, and currently his record stood at 35-0, such a distinguished record earned Jon the favour of the current Sealord of Braavos, Ferrego Antaryon and he had been called to his Palace yesterday to discuss certain matters

"Hello and welcome Two Knives to my humble abode" said Ferrego, his arms wide in supplication

Jon snorted, this was no humble abode, it was a fucking palace, with towers and domes and golden thunderbolt spires

"Why have you summoned me Sealord?" asked Jon with as much respect as he could muster

"Ah.. I like you, straight down to business eh?, well I'll tell you a story, Braavos is the hidden city and it was built by slaves, so all sealords past have virulently opposed slavery in all its myriad, despicable forms, so when I hear there are slavers in Braavos masquerading as respectable tradesmen, I send for you and him"

Ferrego motioned to Jon's left where he saw a weather-beaten man of average height, Ferrego introduced him as Bronn, a skilled and dangerous sellsword as Jon remembered all too well, he had fought Bronn many a time (10 to be exact)

"And him"

Ferrego motioned behind Jon, a man stood tall, carried himself with apparent purpose and he had deep, searching eyes

"This is Thoros of Myr, a Red Priest with the abilities of pyrokinesis and he is able to revive the dead and is also a shadowbinder, but not your typical shadowbinder, he uses his own shadow and manipulates it to control others like puppets."

"I am willing to pay each of you 1,000 sliver stags for this endeavour" concluded Ferrego Antaryon

"Done, but who is the target and more pressing, where is he?" asked Jon, the devil was in the details after all

Astute, as always, Two Knives, the leader of the slavers is Euron Greyjoy, a banished Ironborn, his ship Silence has docked in Ragman's Harbour, southeast of the Drowned Town, the man is a cruel and sadistic bastard who is rumoured to have raped his brother Victarion's wife or salt wife as I hear the Ironborn call them

Jon was suddenly hit by a wave of memories, he remembered Theon Greyjoy, the cocky little shit had been taken hostage after the failed Greyjoy Rebellion five years past and he knew of Euron Greyjoy, a slimy bastard and Theon's uncle, he wondered whether it was right to kill your brother's uncle, he reasoned given that Euron was a sadistic fuck, the Drowned God wouldn't mind too much

He had a kill to finish

 **AN: I've moved Euron's banishment to 293 AC just because I can and because Jon's actions will have repercussions amongst the North and Ironborn**


	3. Chapter 3: Valar Morghulis

Jon was making his way up to Ragman's Harbour with Bronn and Thoros when he saw the Silence, Euron's longship, come into view, apparently staffed by mutes.

"I heard Greyjoy lost his mind while sailing on the Jade Sea, and his crew had to tie him up during a storm, when the storm ended, they untied him and he cut out all their tongues as punishment, hence Silence" chipped in Bronn

"I fail to understand why the Lord of Light allows such stains of darkness to exist" said Thoros, disgusted by the sheer brutality of the Iron Islander

"Probably, because he doesn't exist" joked Bronn

"Careful with your tongue, Bronn or you too will be mute" warned Thoros

"All right, children, calm down and focus" chided Jon

"As I recall, you're the child here, so shut it" replied Bronn

"Who beat you last time we sparred?" asked Jon with a mischievous smile

"Eh, a fluke" Bronn waved his hand dismissively

"Every time was a fluke?" enquired Jon, eyebrows raised

"He's got you there, Bronn" said Thoros with a booming laugh

As Jon approached Silence, he saw the mutes, aimlessly running on board, probably terrified of Euron's wrath if things were not done the way he wanted and as Jon and the others boarded the ship, he heard the booming voice of Euron Greyjoy

"Welcome, welcome!, so Ferrego has sent a prepubescent boy, a priest and weather-beaten motherfucker to send me to the Drowned God, has he?" said Euron, his voice heavily tinged with sarcasm and he cackled madly

"Now we've got the pleasantries out of the way, I'd like to remind you where you are, Braavos, you know the rules, slavery is illegal here, so we ask, politely, for you to let your slaves go" said Thoros, hoping for a peaceful solution to this problem

Obviously Thoros had never met Euron Greyjoy before

"Oooh.. Let me think, how about no, I paid the iron price for the slaves and I intend to keep them, there are tasty wenches too, they give me a good fucking and I give them a belly full of spunk, now why would I want to give them up? So I ask you, politely, fuck off" said Euron in a sing song voice

Bronn drew his sword at this, he may have been avaricious and amoral but even he had limits, Jon raised his hand to forestall him

"So you want to go the hard way?" asked Jon, steel evident in his voice

"Everything's more fun that way" Euron said evenly, his eyes glinting at the prospect of battle, he drew his battle-axe

"Then I'll just have to pay the iron price" sighed Jon

And all hell broke loose

All of Euron's crew decided to side with Euron, of course, they preferred the known to the unknown

Euron came swinging wildly at Jon with his battle axe, Jon parried and dodged, before leaping and punching Euron square in the face, using magic to enhance his strike, meanwhile Thoros was using his shadow binding to control several of Euron's shipmates and making them kill each other and trying to catch Euron off guard so Jon could press the advantage, but Euron was successfully keeping them at bay before Jon managed to graze Euron's shoulder

Euron recoiled, his eyes alight, relishing the battle, he seemed to lose himself completely in it

"IS THAT ALL YOU FUCKING GOT?!, GIVE ME YOUR ALL, BASTARD" Euron screamed before cackling madly and gnashing his teeth, his face bloodied, thanks to Jon's earlier punch

Jon took a step back, considering his options, his swords twirling defensively, he needed to throw down his trump card, he knew it was risky, exposing his magic at this time but he had to do what he had to do.

He closed his eyes and focused, emitting his will and imposing it upon the water around Ragman's Harbour, he commanded it to rise

Thoros and Bronn watched wide-eyed as walls of water rose either side of the longship before encircling Euron and covering him like a chrysalis, Euron was defenceless against the onslaught as water began to fill his lungs and struggled to breathe

"You should have let the slaves go" said Jon, before squeezing the life out of him

"Release all the slaves, look everywhere" commanded Jon, Thoros and Bronn moved to comply, still shocked numb from the turn of events

As time passed, the slaves came milling out, one man approached Jon and gave him a coin

"A man thanks a boy and tells him to find the dragon" he said before leaving Jon with a coin

The man turned back and said "Valar morghulis"

 _Back at Syrio's house_

"Explain to me, what the fuck that was" said Bronn hoarsely, the events of the past hour had left him shell shocked

"Fine, I have the ability to perform magic" admitted Jon, he needed to be honest with Bronn, he owed him that much

"Fuck me, Jon, are there any limits?" asked Thoros

"You believe him?" asked Syrio, incredulously

"We followers of R'hllor know certain forms of magic so I am inclined to believe him" said Thoros resolutely

"My will, if my will isn't strong enough then the magic can't be performed" said Jon

"Makes sense, intent is the basis of all magic, some use ancient languages like High Valyrian to help focus the intent, like me" explained Thoros

"Syrio, I met a man aboard the Silence, he gave me this coin and he said to find the dragon" said Jon

"Did he say anything else?" asked Syrio

"He said Valar Morghulis" replied Jon

One could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed, as Syrio grabbed the coin and turned it over, cursing as he did so

"You have met a Faceless Man, you're lucky you're not dead Jon" said Syrio with fear

"The assassin's guild?" asked Jon sceptically

"The very same" replied Syrio

"What do they want with me?"

"Who knows?" said Syrio with a shrug

"But as a Braavosi, I must serve" said Syrio sullenly

"We must find the dragon then" said Jon

"Yes" replied Thoros

"Wait a minute, isn't the Targaryen sigil a dragon" perked up Bronn

"There have been rumours that the Beggar King is in Braavos" said Thoros

"What have I got myself involved in?" asked Jon to himself exasperatedly

"There is a group who can help us, the Little Birds, child thieves but incredibly competent ones, they serve the Spider"

"The Master of Whisperers?", fuck me sideways, that's a risk" swore Bronn

"I'd rather not, but to achieve our goals we must ally with the devil" replied Jon with a grimace at Bronn's pofanity

"It is decided then, valar dohaeris"

 **Now the story is really picking up the pace.. Until next time! Read and Review**


	4. Chapter 4: Dragons and Snakes

Syrio led the ragtag group of sellswords through the winding streets of Braavos, before they came across a child beggar in tattered clothes, his hair dirty and unkempt, Syrio looked at the kid squarely in the eye while crouching down.

"Hello, Robert" said Syrio, smiling jovially down at the child

"First Sword, come to recall your debt?" asked the newly named Robert

"Yes, where is the Beggar King?" asked Syrio

Robert looked at Syrio, wide-eyed, unblinking

"You realise Lord Varys will know of this" he whispered to Syrio

"I am aware, but valar morghulis" replied Syrio

"Valar dohaeris, they live in an house on Moonsinger Lane, look for the blue door"

"Thank you" said Syrio before moving on

"There could be many houses with a blue door, we need more information" argued Jon

"Targaryens are quite distinctive, look for platinum blonde hair" advised Bronn

"If its mad, inbred and fucks its siblings, its a Targaryen" joked Thoros

"Every time they are born, the gods flip a coin" added Jon

As they approached Moonsinger Lane, Jon's group noticed a young girl around Jon's age, playing, for a lack of a better word with wooden swords, her platinum blonde hair whipping in the wind

"Platinum blonde hair, we've got our dragon" said Thoros

"Jon, you handle this, she looks your age" said Syrio

"What do I do?" asked Jon, nonplussed

"Goddamn, I forgot you're a virgin" grimaced Syrio

"Insult her, that ought to get her attention" recommended Bronn

"Are you serious? how many women have you bedded with that line of attack" asked Jon, incredulous

"None" replied Bronn simply

"Fuck you" replied Jon

"I'm sure she'd like to" said Bronn, sniggering at Jon's discomfort

Jon breathed in, relaxing, before adopting a laidback swagger, and sauntering up towards the girl, and as he did, Jon mused she had the forms but not the discipline and practice required to fully use swords effectively

"You know, a real opponent is better than an imaginary one" said Jon, as he approached the girl

The girl turned, shocked at Jon's intrusion, turned around to strike Jon with a wooden sword but he deftly sidestepped to avoid the blow before refocusing on the sight in front of him, and what a sight it was, he was actively trying to fight down the blush colouring his cheeks

"And who are you to make such comments" the girl said quite haughtily, as if consciously copying the style employed by many a noble

"Oh.. just Jon the poor sellsword and your good name please?" answered Jon obsequiously

"Well.. Jon, I'll give you my name if beat me in a fair fight" cajoled the girl, eager to test herself against a live opponent

"Ooh.. I like a challenge, I shall take you up on it"

 _Five minutes later_

"You've got a long way to go before you're anywhere near competent, but I can help you and you can help me by giving me your name" said Jon playfully

"My name is Daenerys Stormborn" said Daenerys, she instinctually trusted Jon, feeling safe around him, for some inexplicable reason, she felt a small blush spread on her cheeks

Of course, Jon was oblivious to this little detail

"I have to keep this training a secret, my brother would not approve of me learning swordsmanship" continued Daenerys, wincing at remembering the last time she'd woken the dragon

"Of course, Daenerys" said Jon with a bow before departing

 _With Syrio and the others_

"And just like that, our Jon steals the heart of dragon" said Syrio, misty-eyed

"They grow up so fast, one day they're confused there's hair on their seedpods, the next, they're screwing girls left and right" said Bronn wistfully

"Don't speak so crassly, Bronn, he's only a boy, give him space" admonished Thoros

"How many sellswords can beat all three of us in a fight?" asked Bronn

"I only know one" sighed Thoros, predicting Bronn's point

"He's no boy, Thoros, he shed blood, he's a man" said Bronn

"We must prepare him for the harsh realities of this world, it's the least we can do" continued Bronn

"In doing so, we may rob him of his humanity" argued Thoros

 _With Daenerys_

Daenerys returned home to Viserys, who was brooding over in the corner, while under the protection of a powerful Braavosi Targaryen loyalist, even young Daenerys knew that patrons only kept them alive for a short while, they needed an army, the Golden Company had taken their food and drink and laughed in their faces when Viserys begged them for an army, Viserys was once a loving brother but the loss of her mother's crown had made him cold and abusive, he was singularly obsessed with regaining the Iron Throne, a goal that seemed faraway and impossible at this time

Daenerys retired to her bedroom, curled up and cried, finding solace in fact that she would have Jon to lean on, his handsome face not disappearing from her mind

 _With Jon_

Jon had been training Daenerys for a while now, she had taken to swordsmanship like a fish to water and soon mastered the basic underlying forms enough to graduate to basic sparring, she still struggled to successfully evade Jon in her training sessions, Jon was as harsh on Daenerys as Ser Rodrik had been with him, at the end of their training sessions, Daenerys often left with blue-black welts marring her skin, Jon wondered if he went too far, he could never forgive himself if he hurt her too much

"Would you like to stop, Dany?" asked a concerned Jon

Jon's concern warmed Daenerys' heart and his nickname for her never failed to cause butterflies, she shook her head resolutely, she would master this, she was the blood of the dragon

Jon thought carefully "Let's change tack here, Dany" he said, handing her a curved scimitar, Dornish style which could utilise her speed and agility better than her current weapon of choice, suited to more muscular types like Jon

Daenerys found the scimitar much more to her liking and she was able to last longer in a spar against Jon, before being interrupted by Thoros

"Jon, we have a guest, please come" Thoros asked before bowing to Daenerys

"All right, Dany, practise with the scimitar while I'm gone, I'll be back soon" said Jon

"Okay, Jon" replied Daenerys

"Let's go Thoros" said Jon as he made his way to his client "Who's our guest?" asked Jon as he approached Bronn

"Prince Oberyn of Dorne" said Bronn

"The Red Viper?, what does he want?"

"His Sand Snakes are jailed in the House of the Undying in Qarth"

"Sand Snakes?"

"My girls" replied Oberyn, coming into view, Oberyn was the epitome of the sobriquet "salty Dornishman", he carried himself with the grace and poise expected of a nobleman, however, there was also something incredibly dangerous about Oberyn, Thoros had confided in Jon that Oberyn had an encyclopaedic knowledge of poisons due to his time as a maester in the Citadel, it was said he coated his blades with poison and thus the moniker Red Viper.

Jon would be sure to tiptoe around this particular client

"I'll give you 5,000 stags for this little escapade" said Oberyn

"Double or nothing" Jon said

"Done." concurred Oberyn

"Just like that?" asked a puzzled Jon

"My girls are my life, anything for them" replied Oberyn

"How will we enter Qarth, it is quite hostile to outsiders" asked Bronn

"I can help there, a fellow Red Priestess lives in Qarth, named Quaithe, she will host us, I informed her as soon as I got the contract" answered Thoros

"Now the formalities are dealt with, I will take my leave" said Oberyn

Jon returned to Daenerys before telling her to keep practising the forms and telling her he needed to get to Qarth for a job.

 _In Qarth_

Jon was staying at Quaithe's house with Bronn and Thoros, Syrio had matters to attend to in Braavos, so he was absent this time, they were scoping out how to successfully break three women out of prison.

They had rope, a bent iron poker and Jon's magic

They were going to fucking do this

Earlier, in the day, they had managed to gain passage to the House of Undying and an empty cell, it wasn't a prison per se but it might as well have been, it was a dark, foreboding structure housing the enigmatic warlocks of Qarth, whose magic had long since come to be regarded as nothing more than parlour tricks but tradition afforded a warlock a position among the Thirteen, de facto rulers of Qarth

They managed to make their way to the black cells where the Sand Snakes were being held, and they were ready to escape

Obara Sand was quite surprised when three men dressed in strange garbs showed up, they said they were prisoners plotting an escape and invited Obara and her sisters to join, they explained that they'd chosen to extend the invitation to Obara because she was a Sand Snake, a daughter of the Red Viper, so they were probably looking to curry favour with her father by emancipating the Snakes.

Obara accepted, before motioning to her sisters, Nymeria and Tyene to follow her

"Just a word, stranger, if you stab us in the back, the tip of my spear will find your skull" she warned the man in the centre, who nodded gravely

Throughout their trip, the disguised men spoke very little, Obara did manage to glean that one was a Northman bastard, who had gone to the Free Cities in search of adventure and riches, the other two remained resolutely silent and resisted attempts at questioning by both Nym and Tyene before they reached an empty cell with a tunnel leading out to a yard.

"Take the rope" instructed the man, this one sounded Essosi compared to the other one. Obara took the rope as instructed and began to scale the walls as instructed by the Northman

Jon was relieved, they had managed to escape without alerting the warlocks which was simpler than expected, he led the three girls to Quaithe and asked her to notify Oberyn, she complied.

"It will be done Jon, before you depart, I must tell you, you are a song of ice and fire, born of dragon and wolf" said Quaithe, her clairvoyant powers had informed her of Jon's strange aura ever since he stepped foot in her abode, she needed just an opening to tell him

Jon didn't quite understand what that meant but he thanked Quaithe nonetheless and left.

 _A week later_

Daenerys was ecstatic to see Jon, she had missed his guidance and friendship greatly and longed to spar with him again, Daenerys had slowly begun to develop feelings for Jon but she was still too shy to fully express them openly, so she just watched.

Jon hugged Daenerys as he entered the hall, her natural perfume momentarily intoxicating him, while he had developed feelings for her , he convinced himself they would never be returned as a high-born woman could never love a bastard

Bronn shook his head in disbelief, why these two weren't eating each other faces by now, he would never know.

Meanwhile Oberyn entered the room

"Your fee" he said simply before dropping 10,000 stags in a pouch on the table

"Thank you, if you ever come by Dorne, do pay us a visit" said Oberyn sincerely

"Before I leave, there are a few people who would like to give their thanks" continued Oberyn

Obara, Nymeria, Tyene entered the room

"Well,well.. we finally meet our brave souls who saved us" said Obara

"If you ever make it to Dorne, do visit us, we'd like to thank you in person" said Tyene, grinding her hips on Jon, who was very uncomfortable by this exchange, Daenerys was very uncomfortable, she felt the intrinsic need to stake her claim, Jon was _hers_

"Who are those people, Jon?" said Daenerys striding into full view

And for a moment, everything stopped in time for Oberyn

He knew those features, the Targaryens!

"Would you like to explain why you're harbouring fugitives from the Iron Throne Jon?" asked Oberyn

 _Well fuck_ was all that Jon thought


	5. Chapter 5: A Man Is No One

**AN: Next chapter starts here**

Oberyn had been through a lot in his life, his dear sister Elia killed because his fucking good brother Rhaegar couldn't control his bloody lust and thus started a civil war which had left festering wounds on House Martell, he'd had to live in the knowledge that Gregor Clegane still enjoyed the patronage of the King, even though he was nothing more than a fucking rapist, who deserved to die painfully, his head smashed in, his eyes gouged out, he breathed to control his rising bloodlust

And now, he had this fucking headache to deal with, her platinum blonde conjured up images of Rhaegar again "Tell me, who is she?" asked Oberyn, hoping to ease the blasted headache in his mind.

"Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen" Daenerys said, assertively "and who are you?" she questioned

"Oberyn Martell" replied the Red Viper

Daenerys was shocked, this was her brother Rhaegar's good brother, the Red Viper

Jon decided to step in at this point, "Prince Oberyn, she is no threat to you, please leave" he said, hoping to all the Old Gods he would obey his plea

"Fuck no Jon!, do you realise how dangerous this is?" asked Oberyn, a vein throbbing in his temple

"Robert's mad!, Obese yes, but still mad!, if he finds out..." Oberyn left the sentence unfinished, imagining the horrors the girl would face if she was discovered

"We need to make plans about her" said Oberyn

"To begin with, where's your brother?" asked Oberyn

 _The Red Keep_

Varys, the Master of Whisperers was brooding in the black cells of the Red Keep, his little birds in Braavos had been feeding him some interesting information, apparently the youngest daughter of the Mad King had found her way to Braavos' most skilled sellsword three-man team, led by a boy just shy of fourteen namedays with a washed-up Red Priest and an obscure sellsword getting past his prime, they were linked to several jobs but one stood out, the possible murder of Euron Greyjoy, rumour had it that Euron was killed by drowning, or more fancifully, the boy controlled the very waters to drown Greyjoy

The maesters of Citadel had long since dismissed the existence of magic, but Varys grew up in Essos, he knew of sorcery but the skills of the boy were unheard of, completely unique in a sense

Varys sighed, he would have to move Daenerys and Viserys and call in Illyrio some time in the future, but for now, Lys seemed to be the best course of action

 _Winterfell_

Lord Stark was a having a bad day, ever since the death of Euron Greyjoy, tensions had been brewing in the Iron Islands, he feared another rebellion, while the Iron Fleet was raring to pay the iron price for Braavos, both Jon Arryn and Ned knew that would be a fatal misstep, the Crown owed huge debts to the Iron Bank of Braavos, thanks to Littlefinger's attempts to act like a financial genius.

He hated that little bastard, Baelish relished every opportunity to make thinly veiled insinuations that he stole Catelyn's maidenhead, he suspected that it was not Catelyn but rather Lysa, her oaf of a sister he had violated, the woman was singularly obsessed with Baelish.

He began to read Syrio's latest letter, as he had asked Syrio to keep him abreast of developments in Braavos regarding Jon

And when he finished reading, he was ashen-faced.

Martells and Targaryens

Bloody hell..

If only Lyanna was here..

 _With Jon_

"You're telling me you want to support the Targaryens in rebellion?" asked Jon

"Do I look mad?" said Oberyn

"Doing so would be political suicide Jon" said Oberyn

"No, I am keeping my options open, Robert is an okay king but his son Joffrey.. I dread to think what happens then"

"What's wrong with him?" asked Bronn

"What's wrong?!, Everything, my friend!, He's a fucking psychopath and a Lannister puppet" said Oberyn in exasperation

"Then what we do?" asked Jon

"Doran made a marriage contract betrothing Viserys to Arianne Martell, I need to know what kind of person Viserys is" said Oberyn

Daenerys internally winced at this, she knew Viserys, having experienced waking the dragon herself

 _An hour later_

Oberyn was in Daenerys' house, it was a modest space to say the least, sparsely furnished but with all the basic necessities to survive.

"Where is Viserys?" asked Oberyn

"I'll go get him, uncle" said Daenerys, before moving

"Uncle?" asked a surprised Oberyn, with a raised eyebrow

"I- I- I thought since we were related.. Maybe- I- I-" said a stuttering Daenerys

"Hush child, you may call me whatever you wish, we are family" said Oberyn

"And chin up, Daenerys, You are a dragon, show some pride" said Oberyn sternly

Daenerys consciously straightened her back and stood tall, Oberyn smirked, "Perhaps there is hope for you yet" he said playfully

A small smile graced the features of Daenerys before she left to get Viserys

As Daenerys left, she felt mounting apprehension as she drew closer to Viserys' room, while Viserys was her brother and the last remaining link to the Targaryens, but that didn't mean she idolised him, truthfully she reviled him, she tried to love him out of duty but found simply she couldn't love someone who had debased himself so much

"Hello, sweet sister" said Viserys as Daenerys came into view, his voice sounded almost lecherous and Daenerys suppressed an involuntary shudder at it

"Brother, Oberyn Martell is here to see you" said Daenerys as loudly as she could manage and she saw Viserys' eyes widen fractionally before he waved a dismissive hand "Probably here to see his rightful king and declare his allegiance" sneered Viserys.

Daenerys had to resist the urge to laugh, Viserys was penniless but if his pride could be measured in dragons, he would be the richest man in the Known World

"Tell him to come here" commanded Viserys

"Wouldn't it be wiser to come to him, brother, as a show of courtesy?" said Daenerys tentatively

"What? I am the King! sweet sister, my subjects come to me, you know of naught," before he could backhand Daenerys, he felt a fist collide with his face, and he crumpled with a yelp of pain to the floor, when he regained his wits, he saw Oberyn towering over him, his face contorted in rage, "If you even so much look at her again in such a way, I will gut you and feed you to the dogs" said Oberyn menacingly

Viserys laughed "I see no dogs, Viper, and I'm a dragon besides" said Viserys with false confidence

Oberyn was too angry to laugh at Viserys' obviously misplaced self-confidence "Don't fool yourself, You're king of nothing more substantial than the shit trying to burst out of your arse right now, To think Doran..." said Oberyn with barely disguised disgust.

Viserys didn't care what Oberyn was blabbing on about, all he could feel was the sting of his royal authority being slighted by a mere vassal

"I shall PUT YOU TO THE DEATH" he screamed like a banshee, it was a discordant high-pitched wail unbecoming of a royal, but Viserys was too deep into his rage to care, death was the rightful punishment for those who dared strike a Prince of the Blood, he lunged again, but Oberyn expertly knocked him unconscious.

"I apologise you had to witness that, Daenerys" said Oberyn with a note of sadness in his voice, he was taken aback when Daenerys tackled him in a bear hug, tears flowing freely down her soft cheeks.

Thank you.. she said softly.

For the very first time Daenerys felt like she had a family

 _Jon_

Jon hated this, here he was, with an unexpected guest, all he wanted to do was live quietly in the North, get legitimised, found a cadet branch to be loyal bannermen to Father and Robb when the time came but, he had to kill Euron Greyjoy and then cross paths with the Red Viper and get embroiled with the Targaryens thanks to a slave who spoke strangely.

The very same man who stood before him now

"A man would like to thank a boy" said the newly named Jaqen H'ghar

"For what?" asked Jon, though he had a pretty clear idea as to what, he wanted to Jaqen to say it himself

"A boy saved a man's life" replied Jaqen

Jon figured now was time to cut to the heart of the matter, "I know what you are, Jaqen H'ghar" said Jon gravely

"Then a boy knows about a man, a man is no one" said Jaqen or No One as he was now calling himself

"What do you do want?" asked an irritated Jon

"A man wishes to train you" said No One


	6. Chapter 6: A Bitter Truth Told

"Excuse me?" Jon was quite taken aback, did Jaqen seriously expect him to become an assassin?

"A man wishes to train you" said Jaqen/No One, this time, more slowly, as if he was talking to a small child

A small part of Jon was seriously considering this, in this cutthroat world, being an assassin allowed for two things, security and anonymity, after he had saved Jaqen and Syrio had informed him he had saved a Faceless Man, he researched them, it was apparent that the assassins held a very nihilistic view of the world and a man's identity needed to be shredded away completely before he or she could become no one in order to become anyone.

Jon would be hard-pressed to do so, given his status as a Northern bastard, it magnified his visibility tenfold and made him subject to intense scrutiny by southron and northern nobles alike

In other words, they would notice if a bastard was gone

Great, a few minutes of listening to Jaqen and he thought like him as well

"I'm afraid I must refuse, a boy- I mean I cannot be no one" said Jon

"A man knows of a bastard's plight, Jon Snow" replied Jaqen evenly

This single sentence set Jon on edge, none bar Bronn, Syrio and Thoros knew of his identity as a Northern bastard, he subconsciously reached for Lightbringer

"A boy need not resort to violence" said Jaqen, attempting to placate Jon

Jon was quite surprised, his hand had moved barely a fraction, unnoticeable to even trained eyes, how had Jaqen known his next move?

Jaqen continued "Yes, in order for a boy to become another face, a boy would need to shed his identity, after he has learned how to wear faces, then a man may choose to become someone a man once was again instead of remaining no one"

"So a boy can become Jon Snow again once a boy has finished his training?" asked Jon, dammit, he was speaking like Jaqen again

"Yes, All a man asks is a boy continues to abide by our code even after a boy becomes Jon Snow again" said Jaqen

"If I don't?" countered Jon, testily

"A man will deliver the gift to you" said Jaqen ominously

"I need time to reach a decision" requested Jon

"A man will give a boy two hours" said Jaqen before leaving

 _With Syrio, Bronn and Thoros_

"You can't be fucking serious, Jon" said Bronn, wide-eyed with disbelief

"I am very serious, Bronn" replied Jon tightly

"But- but- what will we tell the others?, Daenerys and Oberyn?" said Thoros

"I doubt they'll miss me much" remarked Jon morosely

"Bullshit!, you like her, she likes you, why you two aren't eating each other's faces by now.." Jon raised to stall the tirade

"Enough!, she is a highborn, in no known world, will she ever love me back.." A lump formed in his throat as he spoke

Bronn was exasperated with Jon right now

"Bastard, bastard, bastard, is that all you ever think about?, Do you have wet dreams that one day you will be a Stark, huh? I'm sure you do, well, let's open your eyes, me, Thoros and Syrio are all pretty much bastards, we've killed countless men, women and children, so we're just as much bastards as you" Bronn ranted on

Jon remained silent throughout Bronn's rant and his fists clenched in anger, what did Bronn know of bastardy?

"Go to Dany, Jon, say you love her and say goodbye" said Thoros

 _With Daenerys_

Daenerys' life had been pretty rough growing up, begging on the streets had opened her eyes to the harshness of the world, but she and Viserys always clung to their shared pride as Targaryens and one day, Westeros would know them again through fire and blood.

She wasn't quite sure she wanted that heritage anymore.

It had all started off with Oberyn

"You know, you're nothing like the Mad King" said Oberyn, sitting beside her after a rigorous sparring session, Oberyn in terms of style was a far more dangerous opponent than Jon, Jon preferred two swords and while he had a fledgling knowledge of poisons, he rarely used them, Oberyn, however, seem to coat everything in poison, the first time she had finished sparring with Oberyn, she had felt a dizziness, before Oberyn had informed her it was the demon's dance, and had given her the antidote.

"The Mad King?" Daenerys had asked, cocking her head sideways

Oberyn went white as a sheet, "You- you- don't know?" he sputtered

"Seriously, who is the Mad King?" asked Daenerys, feeling afraid

And his answer had shattered her world

Aerys II Targaryen, the man she'd held in high esteem, her father had been a madman, burning those disagreed with him with wildfire and laughing while they burned, when she heard what happened to Rickard and Brandon Stark, she proceeded to throw up the contents of her stomach on the floor.

She hated what he was, had her entire family been like this? Was her mother mad too? Was Rhaegar?

Oberyn proceeded to tell her that Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna Stark, Robert Baratheon's, the Usurper, betrothed and thus lit the spark that grew into the burning fire that was Robert's Rebellion, destroying House Targaryen through ironically, fire and blood

Her house extinguished because of her brother's unfaithfulness and lust.

"Do you think me mad, nuncle?" asked Daenerys in a small voice

"No, you are not him, I will not blame you for his sins" said Oberyn with an air of finality

Oberyn instructed Obara to take Dany back to her room, he regretted telling her, but consoled himself it was for the best

"Nymeria, bring Viserys to me, Now." Oberyn told the retreating form of Nymeria

The bastard lied to her, he would pay.

 _With Jon_

"Has the boy made his decision?" asked Jaqen

"It was a hard decision but I'll train with you" answered Jon

"Come, Jon Snow soon to be no one" instructed Jaqen, and they journeyed off to the House of Black and White

 _Back with Viserys_

Viserys had been summoned by Oberyn Martell, the fucking Red Viper, a man who thought himself a warrior but just fucked little boys in his spare time. Not that he would tell Oberyn that, ever. He was not a craven, simply more cunning, he thought to himself with pride.

"Yes, what is it?" he demanded as Oberyn came into view, he tried to keep his voice level

"You were responsible for Daenerys' education on the histories of Westeros yes?" asked Oberyn, before offering him some wine

"Yes.." replied a confused Viserys, taking a sip of wine

"You seem to have skipped out entirety of the truth about Robert's Rebellion" said Oberyn, a dangerous edge to his voice

"What part?" countered a visibly angered Viserys, oddly, he felt drowsy

"The Mad King part" answered Oberyn

"Lies! All lies spread by the Usurper!" he struggled to stay awake now

"Not lies, the cold, hard truth, a truth you refuse to see due to your inflated sense of self-worth" spat Oberyn

"Speak to me with respect, I am your King" said Viserys, sleep clawed at him, he fought to remain awake

"A king you will never be, Viserys, trust me, this way, I'm doing you a favour" spoke Oberyn softly

And then, Viserys fell into eternal sleep from where he'd never wake again


	7. Chapter 7: The Blind Bastard

The kindly man went about his duties in the House of Black and White diligently, he prayed to the Many-Faced God as was required, preparing the faces of those dead to be worn by no one as they delivered the gift.

The kindly man eventually noticed two men in the house that had just entered, one was familiar, his red and white hair gave "Jaqen" away but who was this new young boy?

"Jaqen" quickly informed him of the new recruit but gave no other details.

"Well, hello there" the kindly man said to the new recruit, "Come, new recruit, let's talk" he guided the boy to his quarters "So, where are you from?" asked the kindly man, keeping his eyes focused on the recruit's facial movements.

"The North" he replied simply

 _"Not a lie"_

"Far away from home are we?, well tell me the full tale" cajoled the kindly man

"I was a bastard born to a daughter of a miller" the recruit said

 _"half-lie, he is a bastard, but not of a miller's daughter"_

And then the kindly man cracked his whip, striking the recruit's arm, the recruit recoiled in pain, shock writ large on his face

"You lie, worse, you lie poorly" said the kindly man

"I am a bastard" continued the recruit slowly

" _Truth, but he eschews from telling the full truth, Clever"_

"I left for Braavos because I felt there was no place where I belonged"

 _"Lie, what organisations are there in the North? Of course, the Night's Watch!"_

And so, the kindly man struck him again, this time on the left and tittered

"Have you not learned?, you still lie poorly" said a smiling kindly man

"I left for Braavos because I was ordered to, I found work as a sellsword" said the recruit

 _"Truth"_

"A sellsword, what was your most memorable kill?" asked the kindly man

"I killed an Ironborn by slitting his throat" answered the recruit

 _"He is getting better, but the faraway look in his eyes gives him away"_

The whip cracked again

"Who is your father?" asked the kindly man

And the game continued.

Jon Snow was sore and bruised, he had played a game of faces, the old man had said, it wasn't a game, it was fucking torture, not that anyone gave two shits here. He had to clean the floors as punishment for lying, nay, as punishment for being caught out as a liar

His face knew too much, showed too much and Jon knew it.

There was a well in the middle of the temple or the House of Black and White, as they called it.

Jon saw a young man, maybe a few years older than he approach the well, and as Jon had finished cleaning the floor, he approached the man warily

"Who're you?" the young man asked Jon in Braavosi

"No one, are you here to drink?" Jon replied, his Braavosi thickly accented with Northern undertones

"Yes, I was a poor fishmonger once, working with my friend Brusco, Brusco and I flourished for a while, before we had an argument and we each split off to start separate businesses, Brusco did modestly well, but I started off very well, then I took out loans from disreputable moneylenders to expand and couldn't pay it back, they came for my daughters after that, took and used them like toys, my wife too, they tied me up and forced me to watch, 13 men, each left a sliver stag behind afterwards.

He held up a pouch of 13 sliver stags, "I know your services are expensive but this is all I have" he said, placing the pouch in Jon's hand

Jon felt pity, this man had suffered so much, he was broken beyond fixing, the only thing he had was death now

"My name is Sozar, I will die now" he said

"Valar morghulis" said Jon

And so Jon made him drink and watched him die.

The kindly man watched from the shadows satisfied, _"he has potential_ " thought the kindly man

The kindly man would send the boy to Brusco in the future

 _With Daenerys_

"Why aren't you telling me where Jon went?" asked an agitated Daenerys

"Jon is still in Braavos, dear Dany" said Syrio, trying to placate her

"Where?" asked Daenerys forcefully

"He is on a job" said Syrio

"Without you? That's unusual" countered Dany

Syrio cursed himself, why did Daenerys have to be like this?

Daenerys, on the other hand, was still reeling from Viserys' death at the hands of Oberyn, Oberyn had told her everything before dropping her off at Syrio's house, she felt conflicted, she was free for all she knew, but she felt constraints on her, years of abuse had made her easy to mislead and malleable.

Syrio was going to fix that. "Jon will return soon" he told Daenerys calmly

 _Two weeks later_

 _Jon_

"Who are you?" asked the kindly man

"No one" responded Jon

And the whip cracked, every day, this was the ritualistic process by which they began the day, Jon understood why they were doing this, it was to shed his identity and make him one, but he had always been Jon and he struggled to let go.

He'd been told every day, to find out three new things about Braavos and he had now found work selling clams and cockleshells with Brusco, who turned out to be a nice enough person, the kindly man had asked for Jon to create a new identity for himself and so he became Robar, a orphan from King's Landing was what he claimed to be and he had became accustomed to the routine now.

Today, he had discovered that there were new slave sellers in the Drowned Town, Razdak, the leader's name was, he was collaborating with Cadherin, the moneylender who'd given money to Sozar and Cadherin was helping transport the slaves, the youngest ones, to the Wise Masters of Yunkai.

He remembered the last words of Sozar

So he followed Cadherin for three days, tailing him, waiting for him to trip up, he often visited the Inn of the Green Eel and loved to whore and drink Arbor Gold, which he often kept in a small flask.

Finally, Jon had an opening, his tutelage under the kindly man had taught him many poisons, the Tears of Lys, widow's blood, sweetsleep, manticore venom and he had some widow's blood on him right now, so he approached Cadherin's hip flask of Arbor Gold, while he was off taking a piss and slipped some in.

Widow's blood shut down the victim's bladder and bowels, eventually the victim would be killed by their own poisons, it was a slow, painful death

Exactly what Cadherin deserved.

As he made his way back to the House of Black and White, he thought over his actions and possible punishment.

He was greeted by an acolyte before he made his way inside and he was visited by the kindly man

"What have you learnt?" he asked a hard edge to his voice

He repeated everything about Razdak and Cadherin and about how they were selling slaves to the Wise Masters before the kindly man raised his hand and looked at him

"Who poisoned Cadherin?" he asked

"Jon Snow the bastard" Jon replied

"Who are you?" he continued

"No one" said Jon

"You lie" said the kindly man, before giving him some milk to drink

"You lie still, you cannot be no one because you see you are Jon Snow, you see your face, and to us, faces are as good as poison" the kindly man said

Jon felt a terror grip his heart, a cold chill that made his blood run cold, the kindly man, where was he? He could see only black, only darkness!

"My sight! It is gone! My eyes, THEY CAN'T SEE!" Jon screamed

Jon Snow wasn't just a bastard anymore, he was a blind bastard


	8. Chapter 8: Brynden I

**XXX**

Brynden the Blind, that's who he was now, a blind boy begging on the streets, he felt lonely and afraid, he barely made enough money to scrape by and his tutelage with the kindly man wasn't going great either, he was still someone, not detached enough from the world to be a Faceless Man, in the darkness in which he continually lived, he felt he was being attacked, nay, someone did attack him every now and then, but they got away before he could apprehend them.

Night had fallen on Braavos, he was sleeping on the streets, he remembered Bronn and Thoros and Syrio, he may have been blind but his mind's eye still saw clearly, his friends, Syrio's confidence, Bronn's vulgarity and Thoros' advice, he missed it all and Daenerys especially, her silver hair, her smile, wait.. was her hair silver? he could not remember and that broke him, they were slipping away, becoming what he strived to be, faceless.

Here he was in dreams in Winterfell again, The Raven was there too, watching as always, and yet, he was surprised by the Raven's presence, he had not seen the Raven or spoke to him since his arrival in Essos and suddenly, the raven morphed into a dragon made of water, what was this? what was happening?

 **"You have forgotten!, You may have lost your eyes but that is not the only way to see"** the dragon boomed before he suddenly became a thundering river, and he could not help but be swept up in the raging current

Brynden awoke cold and drenched in sweat, heaving slow breaths, as the Raven had said, he had indeed lost his way, caught up in the resentment and frustration of being blind, he had forgotten the age-old adage

"All challenges may be overcome"

 _Morning_

Morning came and Brynden was inside the House of Black and White again, washing the bodies of the deceased and ritually preparing them for use as masks of the Faceless Men, in order for them to deliver the gift.

He played the game of faces with the kindly man, and he learned the history of the Faceless Men in the process

The Faceless Men were a fairly old organization, predating even the Doom of Valyria. Their founders were slaves who worked in the mines under the Fourteen Fires, the great volcanic mountain chain whose eruption destroyed the Valyrian Freehold four centuries ago. The thousands of slaves from a hundred different lands faced death on a daily basis, and over time, the belief developed among some of them that while they came from many different lands and followed many different religions, all of these religions were fundamentally the same, because they all worshiped death in some fashion.

They were either polytheistic religions that had a god devoted to death, or monotheistic religions with a deity that had dominion over death. In time this turned into a syncretic belief system worshiping the Many-Faced God of Death: holding that Death has appeared to humans under many different faces as many different gods, but they are all fundamentally one god.

And so they began to give the gift freely, the first Faceless Man later brought the gift to the Valyrian masters as well. Some scholars believe that the cause of the Doom of Valyria was too many assassinations of the mages who maintained the spells controlling the Fourteen Flames.

Brynden braced himself for the next round of the game

"Who are you?" asked the kindly man

"I am Brynden" replied he

For once, he did not feel the crack of the whip against his flesh, in fact, he swore he could feel the kindly man's smile.

"Welcome to the game, initiate," said the kindly man, motioning for Brynden to follow him to the Chamber, it was here contracts were assigned to Faceless Men, in order for them to be assigned a contract, the Faceless Man must not be connected to the target in any way, such connections jeopardised missions.

The kindly man led Brynden to a well, motioned for him to drink and so he did.

And he saw once more.

"Your contract is as thus, no one, do you know of the Weeper, a wildling scourge who lives Beyond the Wall?" asked the kindly man

"I know him not" replied Brynden

"Give him the gift" the kindly man said in a tone of finality


	9. Chapter 9: Enter, the Wall

**XXX**

Jon Snow had to admit he expected his homecoming to be a grander and more public affair, his time in Essos would've moulded him into a respected hero, freed from the shadow of his bastard surname, free to do whatever he wished he so fucking wished.

He did not expect to be making his way to the Wall and certainly not beyond the Wall either, from the smatterings of smallfolk he had picked up nothing of the infamous Weeper, his intended target, Jon always did have a penchant for storytelling and right now he hoped for a Old God from the weirwood, an inexplicable change in circumstance which allowed him to find the Weeper and be beyond the Wall, but he right now was stuck on a boat headed for Eastwatch by the Sea, a Wall castle commanded by Cotter Pyke, and the last of three to be so.

Dressed with borrowed robes, he might add, or a stolen face would be a more accurate descriptor of his current condition, his disguise as Brynden served him well thus far, it was the nightmares, the dreaded nightmares that left him shook.

He now knew they were not simple nightmares, constructs born from his darkest fears and repressed desires, but rather excerpts from the true Brynden's life and untimely death, the kindly man had warned Jon that it was a temporary side-effect of wearing the face but Jon had seen enough to know death was the kindest fate that Brynden could have received.

Eastwatch by the Sea was Jon's best hope of getting onto a ship headed beyond the Wall, he knew well that even though there existed great enmity between the Free Folk and the Night's Watch, the wildlings still came to Cotter Pyke's castle just to trade with the fabled ships from beyond the Narrow Sea and he needed to get close with a pack of wildlings.

But he could not strike against another not his intended target, for he had not been marked by Him of Many Faces, the god worshipped by the Faceless Men, Jon still proudly held to the Old Gods but the kindly man never rebuked him for it, but Jon was a Faceless Man now, and so he may not hold to their god, but he would uphold their rules.

And suddenly Jon was struck by a mental non-sequitur, who the hell hired the Men to do in the Weeper eh?. Was it a sworn brother of the Night's Watch? Had the once noble order been tarnished so much that the brotherhood had abdicated its responsibility to manage the savages?

Meanwhile, Cotter Pyke was taking a stroll with Harmune, his Maester, his day had been normal as usual, with Harmune reading him his letters, each letter getting progressively worse, beginning with complaints about wildling raiders and the growing power of Mance Rayder to the depressingly familiar ones which lamented the dwindling numbers of men on the Wall.

"Same old shit served again, eh dear Maester?" spoke Cotter with a wistful glance to the seas beyond.

"So it seems, Cotter, so it seems" replied Harmune resignedly, heaving a sigh of defeat.

Cotter Pyke knew he would be on the Wall till his mortal end, but he worried, the Wall had become nothing less than a dumping ground for unwanted bastards and thieves and murderers and their ilk.

And Cotter Pyke was all three and a rapist besides.

He noticed a ship dock, not unusual by any means, and then he noticed the wildlings on board and realised a little diplomacy was in order.

Alyn was just docking into Eastwatch by the Sea to do a little trading, truly he held no love for the crows but a little trading now and then never hurt anyone, and so he got off to work after obtaining permission from the kneelers to sell his wares and he tried to be as respectful as possible, which meant he'd kept the kneeler insults to a minimum, he told the captain, Cotter, his name was, that he could not believe a man could give up riches and sex to go freeze his balls off on the arse-end of nowhere, to which he was promptly rebutted with a 'fuck you savage wildlings', a standard reply of crows, they weren't most the imaginative or witty.

Alyn had to stifle a laugh, the dead walk the earth and the moronic crows still considered them the true enemy?

Back to now, a second ship had docked in the area and Alyn found himself in a conundrum.

It concerned a thief who'd stolen a loaf of bread, his name was Brynden, he'd said, and he needed safe passage beyond the Wall to escape taking his vows and becoming a crow, he'd reasoned that he liked sex and girls too much to give them up.

Alyn let out a booming laugh and let him in his retinue, he relished a chance to stick one to the crows.

And so, Alyn happily set off back to his home, blissfully unaware he'd let a killer onboard.


End file.
